


Deck the Halls

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmukkah, F/M, Family Feels, Festive fic, Fluff, Newlyweds Olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: Felicity has a plan for her perfect first Christmas morning as a married woman, but things go slightly awry.





	Deck the Halls

Felicity had a plan for her first Christmas - her first celebration of the  _holidays_  - as a married woman. 

Now, of course, being Jewish, she usually wouldn’t put much thought into Christmas itself, settling for pulling out the tacky Hanukkah sweater she wore every year, dutifully lighting the bright silver menorah her grandmother had given her for her Bat Mitzvah, and eating way too many latkes to be allowed. And yes, she planned on doing all those things too. 

But this year was different. This year, she had finally married the love of her life, and it would be the first year she would be celebrating the holidays with her new family. 

Her and Oliver were  _married._

 _Oh, wow_.

It was incredible. She’d only been a wife for a few weeks, but it was already the best thing she had ever done. Every time the ring on her left hand caught her eye, it made her stomach flutter and her heart seize up with so much love she thought she might actually burst with it. 

Six years ago, she’d thought her crush on Oliver was a non-issue, something fun to entertain once in a while but nothing that would ever turn into something real, because it  _couldn’t_. 

And now....well, now she had him by her side forever. For better or for worse.

She’d thought of her plan very carefully, because she wanted this day to be an extra-special one. 

They’d agreed that they’d get up first, allowing William to sleep in a little, before Oliver made breakfast and they roused him for food to the sounds of a tinny homemade CD that had been filled with the most ridiculous Christmas and Hanukkah songs Felicity could find. It was something she and her mom had done in her childhood, dance around their too-small kitchen in socks and fraying dreidel-print sweaters to an old mixtape of silly festive songs, her mom warbling along in her broken Hebrew while Felicity jumped and twirled to  _Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree_.

Those memories were some of her best from holidays past, and it was something she hoped she could indulge in once again with Oliver and William, making new memories to complement the old.

Her first point of call, however, was to make sure she got the first kiss of Christmas day from her loving husband, and she was determined to make that happen.

***

Oliver was still asleep when Felicity slipped out of bed on Christmas morning, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake him too early and spoil her plan. The hardwood floor was chilly on her bare feet, and she reached for her robe - a Hanukkah present from William, bright white and  _so incredibly soft_ , and it even had ears on the hood - and a pair of Oliver’s thick woollen socks that he always denied he ever used, yet ended up draped over the back of the dresser chair far too often. Her Oliver was eccentric that way, not that she would ever dream of changing him.

Her reflections brought a small smile to her face, and she took a moment to relish in the glow of it.  _She was married._  To a man she loved so much and so wholly she had thought, more often than not, that it would break her apart. 

She padded across the hall, past William’s room, where silence told her that he too wasn’t up yet. Of course he wasn’t; he was almost a teenager, and teenage boys didn’t get up voluntarily before noon on any day that wasn’t a school day. Even then it took some convincing. Felicity thought of the brand-new microscope sitting in its wrapped box under the tree in the living area and couldn’t help but curl her toes and give herself a moment to squeal with excitement, completely elated, possibly for the first time in a long time.

Reaching the kitchen, the call of the coffee maker was sounding out to her, but she forced herself to show restraint; besides, Oliver’s spiced cocoa was way better, and she’d rather wait and have a steaming mug piled high with whipped cream and dozens of marshmallows instead. 

She’d once claimed it was better than sex, and he’d immediately rushed her off to the bedroom, lips attached to hers, to prove that hypothesis.

Now, she simply grabbed one of the magazines she’d left on the kitchen counter the night before, and settled for resting nonchalantly in the kitchen doorway, perusing the pages and waiting.

Because, unbeknown to Oliver or William, she’d tied a bundle of fresh mistletoe to the top of the door after they’d both gone to bed, and it was this she was hoping to catch her husband under for their first Christmas morning kiss.

 It was genius, really, and that meant something because she herself, Mrs Felicity Meghan Smoak-Queen (provisionally: they hadn’t actually officially decided on the whole surname question yet), was a genius.

Glancing at the clock on the wall on the other side of the room, she saw it was 7am. Oliver would be up soon; he always was an early riser, even on their whirlwind summer of love two years ago when they’d essentially been on vacation. 

She’d flipped through the entire magazine and was about to turn back to the front cover when she heard the telltale sound of water running and the creak of floorboards.  _Yes!_  she thought.  _Time to shine!_

Felicity tried to look as casual as possible where she stood, even humming to herself as she waited, and soon Oliver emerged in the hall, damp from a shower and still in pyjamas. He was barefoot, possibly because Felicity had stolen his socks.

“Good morning!” she said brightly as he approached, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Merry Christmas, Oliver.”

She was too absorbed in the anticipation of the moment he spotted what was hanging over the door to notice the confused furrow that appeared between his eyebrows, nor the odd expression on his face as he passed her, pausing to take her hand and squeeze it gently in his. 

“Oliver?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to say merry Christmas back?”

“I thought you didn’t like it when people said ‘Merry Christmas’,” he replied, rummaging in the cupboard above the sink for the cinnamon and nutmeg and cocoa powder, puling out three mugs and lining them up on the counter. “Which is why I don’t say it.”

“Yes, well....this is our first holidays as husband and wife, and I know how much you love Christmas, so...I want you to say it. Please. For me?”

Oliver, now spooning cocoa powder into mugs and fetching the milk from the fridge, turned to her with a beaming smile. 

 _Oh God, that smile_.  _The star of Bethlehem itself could not compare to that smile_.

He sighed, capitulating to her, as he always did.“Felicity, merry Christmas.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled back, now practically vibrating with antsy feelings. How much longer till he noticed?

But instead he bent down to look in the cupboard once more for a pan to boil the milk on the stove, and while Felicity got a  _very_  delectable view of her new husband’s ass, it also wasn’t quite what she was hankering for.

“Also, hon,” Oliver added, his voice muffled by the clanking and clattering of pans, “your magazine is upside down.”

“ _What?”_ Felicity shrieked, unable to believe her own ears. She quickly flipped it over, looked at it. And it was upside down. 

It had been upside down this entire time.

“Oh, frack. Frack frack frack frack  _frack_!” she exclaimed, thumping the magazine down onto the counter again. “Frack and dammit!”

“What’s wrong? It’s just a magazine.”

To her horror, tears pricked at her eyes, and she burst out, “I had a plan to have the perfect first Christmas morning kiss as husband and wife and I ruined it! Because I held the stupid magazine upside down!” 

At that, Oliver stretched up, pan in hand. “Hon, you know you don’t have to expect anything from me, right?”

“I  _know_ ,” Felicity sniffed, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “But - it’s such an important milestone for us and - I wanted it to be perfect. Look, I bought mistletoe and everything!” 

She pointed forcefully up above her head, to where the bunch of mistletoe was. Oliver followed her gaze, and then he chuckled. 

“Felicity, you’re my  _wife_ ,” Oliver said. “You don’t need to ask permission to kiss me on Christmas morning, okay?” 

Felicity held out her hands, and Oliver took them. Their matching wedding bands shone ever so slightly in the breaking dawn light coming through the windows. “I don’t care about any elaborate plans, or strategically placed mistletoe. I just want to spend the holidays with you and William.”

“Even if I held the magazine upside down?” she asked, looking up at him timidly through her eyelashes. 

He smiled,bending to press a tender kiss to her forehead, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. 

“Even if you hold the magazine upside down.”


End file.
